Proof
by Milk and Glass
Summary: Based on Rachael Sage's "Proof", this is a fluffy oneshot about Addison and Derek enjoying a Sunday dinner with their grandchildren and reflecting on how far they've come in their relationship. What would happen if Derek left Meredith and Addie came back.


It's a Sunday dinner like any other – one of many that she's had the pleasure of enjoying over the past five years. She didn't think she'd get here – she never thought that she'd get to see her babies having babies, or realize what a wonderful experience it is to be a grandmother – the kisses without the tears; the pride without the disappointment.

Then again, Jaime's five, so there's probably plenty of that coming down the road.

Derek's gone grey in later years – his hair was always salt and pepper, through his late forties and then into his fifties; as his daughter experimented with goth makeup and jet-black hair dye and his son came to him with the shocking news that he didn't want to be a doctor; no, in fact, he decided to follow his first love, which was computer science, more and more grey hairs started to appear around his ears and in the stubble on his face.

Now, when Addison looks at him across the table, in his late sixties, carefully instructing his son-in-law on the correct way to carve chickens (and trust him, you don't argue with a neurosurgeon), she finds that she doesn't mind his grey head as much as she always thought she would.

Of course, she contributed to the stress in his life, the same as the matching grey hairs in her own red hair were put there because of the events he contributed to as well.

Jaime, a five-year-old dark-haired little beauty, and the only one of the family with brown eyes, bangs her fork against her plate. "I'm hungry! Grandma, can't I PLEASE have another piece of bread? I'm just STARVING."

She's got a penchant for capitals, and Addison smiles. "You can wait. Derek, honey, can you cut her a little piece of meat or something?" The sound of Jaime's fork against her plate is starting a headache in the little spot between Addison's eyes, and though secretly she loves these lively Sunday dinners, she'd rather not break out the Tylenol before it's necessary.

Aidan drools from his highchair and like always, follows his little sister and bangs his plastic spoon against his bowl. However, plastic doesn't sing like metal on china does, and his face falls in disappointment, his green eyes welling with tears.

To stave off the inevitable outburst from her fifteen-month-old grandson, Addison gives him her fork and shows him how to ring it on her water glass. Immediately, his tears turn to smiles as he and Jaime begin to bang in dissonant chorus.

Derek looks up in annoyance. "Addie, did you have to?"

She shrugs. "Did you want to listen to crying and whining because you're taking too long? Seriously, cut the lesson short. I'm sure Sam doesn't care about the correct way to carve a chicken and how to dissect it so that every piece of meat is recognizable as a body part. We're all hungry and I'd like to visit before it's time for these little monsters to get off to bed."

As if on cue, Jaime wails. "I don't want to go to bed tonight! I want to stay here!"

Addison's daughter, Kate, sighs. "The last time we let you stay with Grandma and Grandpa, you called us at three AM crying your eyes out and wanting to come home. I think we'll save your grandparents that particular fun time, James."

Family dinners – this is the way they turn out, and Addison wouldn't have it any other way.

//~//

Kate and Sam got married six years ago in Hawaii, much to Derek's disgust, but his mood turned happier once he discovered the wonders of a free trip complete with alcohol and Cuban cigars on the beach. Addison still tears up, thinking of how happy he looked, walking his little girl down the aisle, Kate's red hair glowing in the sunshine under her veil; her blue eyes alight with love and happiness for this salesman of convenience store snacks.

Sure, they all had ideals – Addison always hoped one of her children would think about going into the medical profession, and she knew that Derek hoped fervently that Adam, their son, would.

As things go, Adam turned into a reclusive nerd who just met the second girlfriend of his entire life while pulling an all-nighter at the lab. He's the oldest child of the Shepherd family, but it's like he's the youngest – holding her hand, exchanging shy smiles in front of his proud parents. He would have made a great doctor, sure, but so would either of her children.

Her second secret hope was that if they didn't become doctors, they would marry doctors. No luck so far, but Derek and Sam are literally the best of friends. Sam's black hair and startling green eyes have been passed onto their son, Aidan, and Addison's secret dreams of some nameless, faceless, successful doctor being her son-in-law have faded as she's seen how happy Kate is with her salesman husband and her two gorgeous children.

It's always been hard to gauge how Derek feels. He initially wouldn't even ask his daughter about her pregnancy with Jaime, but was the first to cry as he held the six-pound, four-ounce little girl. Now, Derek plays dolls and house with his granddaughter, fondly believing that no one knows about how much enjoyment he gets out of it.

So things aren't always as you hope they turn out. For Addison, the main thing is that they did.

//~//

It's no secret to both her children that her marriage hasn't been an easy one. They were there through the nasty words and the yelling fights behind closed doors. They were there through the time where a second divorce probably would have been the best situation, but wasn't and thank whatever deity above, didn't happen.

It was fraught with happiness and children playing on green lawns and endless sunshiny days in the summertime; and it was fraught with constant burden of proof – proof that it was okay to leave Meredith; proof that giving up her share in the L.A. practice was a good one.

It took a long time to admit to each other that maybe getting back together was a mistake. When she spent the time in front of the TV, red bob growing long again, her legs crossed, and he spent time behind the newspaper, and there were no words – it seemed like a mistake, like turning back the clock.

And he started to retreat to the hospital when she got too snappy or demanding. When twenty-four hours of a stomach virus in both children ended up in frantic, exhausted sex with no release as soon as they got a chance to sleep more than fifteen minutes at a time, he wondered if this was what he really wanted from his life. If this was the woman he wanted to do this with.

She left once – for a conference, and ended up staying for a week at a hotel in L.A. He thought he'd lost her then – she thought she'd enjoy pretending she wasn't also a mother and wife as well as a doctor.

In the end, it was about proof. So, there was proof that life isn't always perfect – there was proof that even the person you love the most can be the one you hate the worst. Had they forgotten the proof of being alone? Of grasping at straws in order to feel something from life?

She came back and never left again. He didn't change outwardly, but never again was he absent in the same way.

//~//

Addison helps Kate wipe Aidan's face and she tweaks his little button nose, kisses his chubby little hands.

"He's got a surgeon's hands. Maybe he'll be the doctor of the family."

"He's fifteen months, Mom. I think there's plenty of time to decide that."

"I'll never get over the fact that you named him Joshua. Like those horrible Duggars."

"At least I didn't have twenty kids."

"Yet." Addison grins at her mirror image – Kate's literally herself at twenty-eight. She always wanted all of her children to have Derek's eyes and hair, but secretly, she's glad that at least one of her kids looks like her.

"Anyway, I named him Joshua Aidan. Hence why I got to win over Sam and we called him by his middle name."

"Face it; you were worried about starting a Duggar trend in your own family."

Sam walks in at that point, Jaime on his hip. "Are we going to do baths here or at home?"

They literally live about ten minutes away, but Addison begs anyway. "Oh, do them here. I rarely get to spend time with them anymore. You guys are so busy!"

"Quit with the guilt, Mom." But Kate's smiling and Aidan reaches for Addison, nuzzling into her shoulder.

Sam nods. "Fine with me."

Derek and Adam walk in, carrying a stack of dishes and sticky casserole dishes. "I'll do the dishes, Addie. Why don't you go and sit down in the other room?"

"Will you bring me coffee?" Addison places a kiss on Derek's stubbly cheek, and he turns in, sandwiching the baby between them.

"Sure."

The room has firelight dancing on the walls, and Derek's reading Jaime a story, cuddling her against his chest. She's wearing pink one-piece footie pajamas. In Kate's arms, Aidan is sleeping.

This is what Addison strived for, all those years. She knows this is what Derek wanted.

Sometimes, the proof is right in front of you.

She's never regretted coming back for proof.


End file.
